


Father and Son

by esidesu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A little bit of fruk, American Revolution, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family History, Fatherhood, Gen, Random & Short, Sad and Happy, face - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esidesu/pseuds/esidesu
Summary: Arthur remembered the first time he saw Alfred. It was a day he could never forget. Those little blue eyes looking into his, the joy that swelled in his chest; Arthur cherished that memory.
Kudos: 8





	Father and Son

Arthur remembered the first time he saw Alfred. It was a day he could never forget. Those little blue eyes looking into his, the joy that swelled in his chest; Arthur cherished that memory. He remembered the way his little hands wrapped around his finger in his sleep. The idea of raising a child on his own made him uneasy, then Francis came around. They had been acquaintances for a long time. Arthur didn’t hate him as he said he did, but they weren’t friends. Of course, that would change. 

Francis was a natural when it came to kids. Arthur never understood how to comfort a child quite like he did. When Alfred would cry Francis would just cradle him until he settled down. When Arthur tried he would just cry more. Parenting didn’t come easy to him. However after the first few hundred years he started to get the hang of it. 

Matthew came not long after Alfred, the brothers only a year apart. Francis took every opportunity to show him off, his pride radiant. They decided to raise them together, after all Arthur needed him. Alfred grew up fast, too fast for Arthur. He was strong and very independent. It hurt Arthur to see him grow up so quickly. He spent less time with Arthur and more with Matthew and Francis, or just by himself. 

Then they started to fight. Arthur thought it was just part of kids growing up, teenagers were difficult and arguments couldn’t be avoided. That didn’t stop the hurt he felt when Alfred spat in his face and said he’d be better on his own. His own son, taking up arms against him. Arthur spent days, weeks, reminiscing on the early days. What did he do to deserve this hurt? Where did he go wrong? 

It didn’t help when Francis took Alfred’s side. He’s not a kid anymore. He’s his own man. He needs his independence. Arthur didn’t want him to be his own man yet, he was still his little boy. What if Arthur was dependent on Alfred? Alfred stuck around to see his brother and Francis, but they rarely talked. Arthur felt like hundreds of years passed in that cold silence. 

He sat alone in his kitchen, his kettle whistling on the stove. He took a single tea cup from the cabinet and dropped in a tea bag. The water steamed as he poured it into the cup. He sighed as he leaned against the counter, waiting for the tea to steep. His small TV droned on from the other room. He stirred in a bit of sugar and milk and ambled back to the living room. He placed his cup on a table and picked up his knitting needles. Sitting back in his chair, he let the world around him fall away. His hands worked subconsciously. 

He was pulled back into reality by a harsh rap on the door. He glanced out the window to see a tall figure standing outside. He wore a puffy bomber jacket and glasses. He could tell just by those clear blue eyes, it was Alfred. Arthur set down his knitting and walked to the door, his hand hovering over the door knob. How many years had it been since they last talked? He took a deep breath and opened the door. 

“Hey, old man.” He smiled brightly at the brit. He held out his hand and Arthur hesitantly took his grasp, the handshake short and awkward. 

“Alfred.” The boy kept his smile as he glanced over Arthur’s shoulder. “Oh, do come in.” 

Arthur invited him into the parlor and offered him a cup of tea, which he quickly declined. Alfred gazed in awe at all the relics lining the walls. Arthur’s shelves were full of things he had collected over the years. 

“So, what brings you here,” he asked. It came off as cold. 

“I was looking through some of my old stuff and I found this. Reminded me of you.” He pulled a tarnished silver pocket watch out of his jacket. “I think this was yours.” Arthur gently took the watch and opened it. Engraved in the cover was A.K. 1770. 

“Ah, this must be old. Where did you find it?”

“Just in an old box of stuff. Come to think of it, it might be all yours from before you left,” he mused. Alfred looked blankly around the room, missing the pang of heartache in Arthur’s face. 

“I guess you’ll want me to come collect it.” 

“It’s just a bunch of old junk, but if you want it sure.” He shrugged. “Actually, you should come over. Mattie was thinking of having a little reunion.” 

“A reunion?” Alfred smiled back at him with an eager nod. “I assume Francis is invited.” 

“Yeah, he should be there.” A few moments passed in tense silence as Arthur wrung his hands. Alfred sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know it's been a while,” he paused to look at Arthur. His green eyes stared back into his. “You’re still my dad.” 

“Alfred-” 

“You were a jerk. I was a jerk. That’s all in the past now,” he muttered. Arthur gave him a soft smile. 

“So when’s this reunion?”

“Let’s say next month.” Alfred grinned and pulled the brit into a hug. Arthur held him tight, memories of holding that rambunctious little kid in his arms flooding his mind. 

Arthur wiped his face when he finally pulled away, Alfred hiding a small smile. 

“Guess I’ll see you next month.”

“You better be there.” Alfred playfully punched his shoulder and headed back to the door. He glanced back at his father with a smile before he left. Arthur stared at the door as it closed behind him. He sniffled and wiped his face again. He looked down at the watch in his hand and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> ksjhsdjkhf I don't know how to write endings (╯︵╰,)


End file.
